Last Gasp of the Atlantia
by Xeal II
Summary: Admiral Nagala fights his final battle aboard the battlestar Atlantia, remembering the words of his old comrade, Adama, as the one-sided war draws to its inevitable conclusion.


Last Gasp of the Atlantia

"_Colonials, fight to the last gasp."_

The Admiral knew the saying well, it had tainted every thought in his mind since the attack began. Once, that saying had a literal meaning, as Cylons from the First War boarded battlestars, vented their atmosphere and asphyxiated thousands. Stories from that war had long since ascended to legend, but their essence remained alive in his thoughts and now in his actions. The klaxon of battle alarms, screaming crew members and reverberations from explosions echoed across the CIC of the great battlestar _Atlantia_, proof that her crew still gasped air, still fought on. To the last gasp, indeed.

Nagala snapped out of his reverie, the Atlantia's Commander screaming in his ear, demanding new orders with an almost desperate tone. The admiral glanced at the DRADIS console above, watching as another green dot flickered into nothingness, another battlestar lost to the senseless attack. Of his attack group of a dozen fully-armed battlestars, only four still remained. Half of the attack force had been disabled and destroyed within mere moments, but the risky move of splitting the group into two formations had largely spared the rear forces the same fate. Precious time had been gained and quick thinking from his crew had pointed out the new CNP program as the backdoor which the Cylons had used to disable the first wave.

The offending program had been immediately purged, stranding the fleet with no FTL or navigational capability. Computers were taken off the network and operated independently, as in the old days of the First War. But now the attack group was outnumbered, outgunned and running orders by courier and speaker-patches throughout the ship. Rigid efficiency had been replaced with chaos, and in those opening moments another two battlestars had been lost. Now four battlestars were arrayed against twice that number of basestars, and their accompanying raiders.

How Commander Adama would have laughed, assuming any of this were funny, Nagala thought. He remembered his arguments with the old battle-hardened veteran, attributing his resistance to the newer computer upgrades to his bad experiences from the First War, and that little "Valkyrie" incident. Out of spite, Nagala had assigned him to the old, toothless _Galactica_ hoping to force the uncooperative Commander to resign or spend the rest of his days flying his dream of backward technology. How that had backfired today. He began to laugh, then thought better of it as reason took hold of him again.

"Order _Olympic_ to the front, _Valkyrie_ to the rear, place us in position two and _Mercury_ in three. Form a broadside battle line and target the foremost basestar, center axis, all main batteries." Nagala barked out with calm efficiency.

"Yes Sir," Commander Kane began, turning to face his bridge crew, "all main batteries, execute firing solution, Basestar, foremost position, center axis, salvo fire. Armor piercing."

The first three battlestars opened up on the lead basestar with enough force to break the capital ship's spine, folding the entire ship inwards with effortless ease as explosions blossomed from the center axis, knocking off one of the primary blades. Missiles spread forth from _Valkyrie_'s missile launchers, impacting the dying basestar and shredding it into biological and technological debris. Tightening up their formation, the other seven basestars began sending waves of missiles toward the _Mercury._

"_Mercury _has severe damage on the topside glacis plate. Armor has failed in the prow and she has lost two batteries. Another wave of missiles incoming, radiological alarm. There's a nuke in there somewhere." Kane continued, acting as the XO.

"Order viper wings one through four into defensive positions over _Mercury_. Have her switch to flak rounds, move her out of the battle-line, z-axis. Move down the line, batteries from _Olympic _and _Atlantia_ to target center basestar, make the blades the priority target; eliminate enemy missile launchers. _Valkyrie_ to target rearmost basestar. Release of nuclear weapons is authorized."

Nagala droned out orders, like a machine. Chaos unfolded around him as the ship shook as much from her own batteries unleashing coordinated hell as from enemy fire. Somewhere behind the conflagration was Virgon, burning from the nuclear hell unleashed from the Cylon attackers. How many millions had died in the flashes of destruction, the admiral couldn't even begin to fathom. Another basestar vanished from the DRADIS console, lit up like a thousand suns before breaking apart into nothingness. Power surges fried several consoles as the EM pulse from multiple nuclear detonations took their toll on the electronics. Even in the First War, Humans and Cylons alike tended to avoid these close nuclear exchanges; it was like old wooden ships of war shooting at each other with the equivalent of G-4 explosives and napalm. The carnage was horrific on both sides.

"One enemy target destroyed, Admiral. Six basestars remain, third from the battleline appears to have suffered heavy damage, it is descending from the enemy line." Kane reported efficiently. "Sir, _Mercury_ took at least three nukes in that exchange. She's drifting, main engines offline. Visual inspection shows several decks afire."

"Are her main batteries still functioning? Missile tubes?"

"Yes, sir. What are your orders?"

"Have her hold position. Launch a full nuclear barrage, set batteries to auto-fire and have her crew abandon ship. Move _Valkyrie_ into position between _Mercury_ and the battle-line after her nukes have been fired. Cover their escape." Nagala frowned, the battle line had barely been formed and it was already collapsing. Like those ancient wooden vessels, broadsides of shells, bullets and missiles flew back and forth as waves over the endless ocean of space.

More missiles flew out into the battle, but this time the Cylons weren't caught unaware. Most of the missiles were eliminated by raiders, even sometimes at their own sacrifice. Two made it through the chaotic battle, however, impacting the wounded third basestar in the battle-line, tearing her center axis and sending the ventral portion pinwheeling away from the battle, trailing fire and wreckage, like a decapitated beast leaking blood. As if in vengeance, the remaining cylon capital ships launched a coordinated missile barrage into the mayhem. _Mercury_ spun, out of control, as the wave of fire tore into it, tearing the ship open like a tin can. Another green dot vanished from the DRADIS console. Now they were three.

"_Mercury_ has been destroyed sir. No report on survivors. What are your orders?" Kane was visibly shaken now, the young Commander's eyes watery, his face covered in sweat and grime. The entire CIC crew clung to their stations like children to their blankets. The fear was almost like a thing you could see and touch, a real physical sensation of loss and weight of burden. The future of everything was at stake, and they were losing. The line of basestars closed in tighter, the noose beginning to form.

"They are down to five. We can do this people. Form up tight, z-axis line, staggered staircase battle-line. Present bow batteries, lean forward prows low, present smallest possible target. Order remaining viper wings to defensive formations, concentrate on keeping the raiders off our backs."

"Yes sir.," Kane continued, falling back into the familiarity of routine. "Present bow batteries, target lead basestar. Viper wings to defensive formation beta-six. Batteries, fire at will." Nagala frowned as Kane barked out orders like an automaton. There were too many similarities between human and cylon for the admiral's liking. Perhaps Adama had been right. In any event, Commander Kane made for an efficient commander, but one lacking the insight and experience, and even personality of some of the First War veterans. His old nemesis would be most welcome now.

Tightening the formation proved to be a mistake for the Cylons, showing a surprising amount of tactical weakness for the machine race, Nagala thought. Kinetic rounds tore through one basestar, shearing off a blade with enough force to send it showering down upon the basestar behind it, damaging both vessels. The crippled basestars rapidly exited the battleline, leaving only three willing to fight. Kane let off a war whoop as the bridge crew cheered. Three new enemy blips emerged directly above the battlestar formations. Radiological alarms sounded as the cheering died down almost immediately. Nagala visibly gulped.

"_Sir, I accept command of _Galactica_ with pride." Commander Adama began, his gruff voice giving testament to his old callsign, Husker. "You may think it a punishment, but I served on her before. She is a good ship, she will still be around long after your computerized toys are gone."_

"_It's your unwillingness to accept change that doomed your career, Bill. Listen, I understand you, I've seen your record. But you've become an anachronism, a relic. If you're fine commanding such a ship, then maybe I envy you. But the admiralty has no place for the bygone relics of the past." Nagala lectured._

"_You focus too much on the future, sir. We have to learn from our mistakes with the cylons, or we will just repeat them over and over again."_

"_Try sticking to your own faults. Criticizing a superior officer isn't good for the career either. Dismissed." Nagala waved his hand distractedly toward the door. At first Adama turned on his heels and marched out. Some thought overcame him, however, and he turned around as the admiral looked up from his desk with an expression of annoyance._

"_The time may come, sir, when you realize that we came too far. I hope that day never comes, but if it does, maybe Galactica can prove her worth again, and so can I." Adama finished. Without waiting for a reply, he left the admiral's office, leaving the man to ponder his words._

"Sir.. SIR. _Valkyrie _has been severely damaged. She took two nukes, center-mass, her keel has buckled." Kane screamed above the din of battle. Explosions impacted Atlantia everywhere, glass shattering and consoles shorting out. Nagala frowned, deep in contemplation as the battle unfolded around him. _Valkyrie_ was a smaller battlestar, not meant for a prolonged fight in the line of battle. Her many missile batteries made her a powerful ship that could really dish it out, especially relative to her size, but just couldn't take hits like the larger battlestars could. He was paying for using her as a ship of the line now, and her crew as paying with their lives.

"Anything on our FTLs?" Nagala asked, nearly yelling to be heard above the fight.

"No sir. The CNP program was tied into them, we have no means to control them and loading the old navigation programs is taking too long."

"Blind jump?"

"Well, not really sir. Something has happened down there, we think it might be sabotage." Kane continued, nervous at the implications. Why would humans work with cylons?

"Sabotage? Or infiltration?"

"Sir? I think someone would notice if toasters were on board."

"Don't be so sure." Nagala replied, remembering Adama's file once again.

"_You've been through a lot over the years Commander, given a lot of service. But this critical mission has been botched terribly. I am forced to remove you from command of the _Valkyrie_ pending review." The admiral began._

"_Sir, with all due respect, we should never have undertaken this mission. Do we risk provoking the cylons?" Adama replied calmly._

"_That alone I might understand, but what is this business about refusing the computer upgrades for your ship? Go on, I want to hear this, it should be good." Nagala added sarcastically, disdain dripping from his words._

"_Have we learned nothing from the Cylon War? Networking computers is an open invitation for cylon infiltration."_

"_There's no infiltration, Commander. There's no war, it's been over for forty years, I suggest you accept it. We all know about your war record, I know you've seen some disturbing things, what with that experience on Tauron. But you can't let that ruin your career." The admiral's voice took on an air of sympathy, as if offering his friend a final chance at redemption and orthodoxy._

"_You read about it in a file, sir. I lived it. That thing they were creating, a living machine made of pieces of those people. We created those advanced computers, and this is what they did. We should not repeat the cycle again."_

"_Well then, Bill, I suggest you think about retirement, or some nice cozy assignment on an old relic. You won't get much more. We of the Admiralty have to think about the future."_

Another explosion tore through the ship, reverberating everywhere, shoving the admiral ignominiously into the battle display console.

"Damage Report! And give me a status on our Vipers. The DRADIS must be malfunctioning, I don't see our birds."

"Sir, moderate damage to port side pod. Armor in center section, dorsal area has been penetrated, we are venting atmosphere there. And sir... those last few nukes destroyed almost every fighter in the air... on both sides. Remaining Vipers are heavily damaged and returning to ship, combat-ineffective."

"Sir! I have a report from someone in command... I think. Reports indicate that Caprica City has been nuked. Also, the fleet shipyards have been hit. The government has tried to surrender, without any success at even contacting the enemy!" The communications officer screamed, hot tears running down his cheeks. He must have lost someone on Caprica, Nagala thought with minimal emotion, trying to process the data at hand.

"Bring us about, broadside, I want a full barrage at the nearest base ship, even point-defense guns are to target the basestar. Close to minimum range, we can't stand toe-to-toe with this many baseships firing off nukes._ Olympic_ is to follow. Order _Valkyrie_ to...." The admiral hesitated, knowing what had to be done but flinching at the idea of sacrificing hundreds of lives to keep fighting a losing battle. But what other choice remained for the crippled battlestar? "...order her to fight to the end. Throw whatever she can. May the Gods watch over us."

A voice came through the speakers then, the Commander of the _Valkyrie_, her voice filling the CIC.

"Go on_ Atlantia_, we've got your back from here. So say we all."

"So say we all," the bridge crew of the Atlantia echoed, the only farewell they could give to their comrades. Nuclear missiles spread from_ Valkyrie _as she fired off her remaining munitions, trying to get as much metal in the air before her inevitable demise. The relentless wave claimed a basestar in bright explosions before the counterattack reduced _Valkyrie_ to so much floating scrap metal. Now they were two.

Combined fire from _Olympic_ and_ Atlantia_ targeted each baseship from both sides, flying right down the line of baseships, destroying one and severely damaging another before the cylons could regroup and adjust their tactics. The newcomers launched hordes of raiders which flew heedlessly into the fire from the point defense batteries of both battlestars. The carnage was horrific, but some raiders broke through and peppered the battlestars with missiles and bullets, causing further damage to the already dying battleships.

More basestars jumped into the fray, the admiral didn't bother counting them, watching as they peppered _Olympic _at close range. The fight was at point-blank range now, raiders weaving between the dying battlestars, main batteries blazing into the softer armor of the basestars. There were no more battle lines, just baseships pounding the doomed colonials. Combined fire from left and right completely annihilated another baseship, but the damage to _Olympic_ was catastrophic. Her stern afire, batteries still firing, she crashed into another baseship, annihilating them both in an explosion that showered the battlefield in debris. And now there was one.

"_Sir, Commander Adama's decommissioning ceremony is coming up next week. Shall I put it on your schedule?" His aide looked up from his PDA._

"_No, I won't be making an appearance...You can schedule my tour of Atlantia instead."_

"_Yes, sir." The aide answered, turning on his heels as he prepared to leave._

"_Wait up, one more thing. Record a copy of Adama's speech, I'm curious to see what the old warrior has to say." Nagal ordered wistfully._

"_Won't it be just another long speech, sir? You usually tire of them." The aide asked curiously._

"_You have your orders. Dismissed." The admiral replied briskly. "He might surprise us," he whispered, mostly to himself, as the aide left._

Commander Kane was dead, his body so much waste on the bloodied floor of the CIC. Support girders crashed around the admiral as the ship began to die, her supports buckling and her atmosphere venting into space.

"Helm, rotate us, maximum angular velocity. Salvo fire from all batteries in time with the rotation, keep steady fire on nearest baseship." Nagala yelled. Sparks flew from the DRADIS console as one of the screens shorted out.

"Fire remaining nuclear missiles when the launch tubes are parallel to furthest baseship."

"Sir receiving a report from someone in command. Report says 'battlestar Atlantia has been destroyed, all Commanders to report in for chain of command.'" The comm officer yelled.

"A bit premature, I think. Not by much though. They must have confused us with the _Olympic_."

"Should I reply?"

"No, it will be true soon enough." Nagala responded as the ship lurched with the launch of more missiles. "Keep us spinning, target the nearest baseship with everything we have. Load the port batteries as the starboard batteries are firing."

Spinning rapidly on its long center axis as she drove forward, the battlestar kept a steady stream of battery fire on a single baseship, tearing it apart as if it were made of butter. She dove directly into the formation of cylon ships, heedless of the damage she took. Badly wounded, the baseship attempted to limp away, even as others closed in. Missiles spread out from the colonial flagship, with most intercepted by the raiders, but a few striking home on the rearmost basestar, crippling her with nuclear fire. As if in immediate response, missile trails emanated from the cylon ships, converging on the wildly spinning, rapidly firing battlestar. Explosions tore into her port flight pod, severing it completely and kicking the ship off her spinning axis.

The explosion was deafening. Cooling lines in the corridors blew open, spewing toxic gases all around the ship. Bulkheads collapsed and the entire ship groaned as her keel was strained to the breaking point. Consoles shorted out everywhere, leaving many stations powerless even as girders crashed from above and air began to leak even out of CIC. As the admiral came to, he saw the death which had surrounded him. Some were crawling on the deck, trying to reach their stations, others simply stood still, dead or frozen in inaction. Seeing little time for formalities any longer, Nagala took the helm himself, recalling those old days when he had once manned this type of station. The sublight engines still responded, though the ship was off balance due to the missing flight pod. It didn't matter any more.

Canceling the spin and realigning the ship to the center of the enemy formation, Nagala pushed the ship to flank speed, aiming for an undamaged baseship. _Atlantia_'s few remaining batteries continued their fire, doing as much damage as they could even as raiders swarmed the ship and began picking them off one at a time. Next to the Helm, Nagala could see the comm station, now unmanned, printing off the latest colonial traffic. With little else left to do, he stared, the words haunting him in his last moments.

COLONIAL COMMAND TRAFFIC

WIRELESS CODED FREQUENCY

AM TAKING COMMAND OF FLEET. ALL COLONIAL SHIPS TO RENDEZVOUS AT RAGNAR ANCHORAGE FOR REGROUP AND COUNTERATTACK.

COMMANDER WILLIAM ADAMA  
GALACTICA

In a sense, Nagala was comforted by the message, remembering Adama's words to him. It seemed like so long ago, but the admiral had never forgotten that exchange. Bill's words had haunted him, like a personal demon clinging to his awareness. He knew he had been wrong, but the fact that someone else had been right gave him hope. Maybe all was not lost for humanity just yet, maybe his life hadn't been a complete waste. In any event, Nagala was determined to give the cylons a final taste of humanity's determination. More baseships jumped into the one-sided battle, but Nagala didn't pay them any mind.

"Colonials, fight to the last gasp." The admiral spoke into the speakers, calmly and without emotion, as if he were simply ordering a meal at his favorite restaurant. It was to be his last order. The remaining bridge crew silently nodded in acceptance, returning to their duties for their final seconds of life.

Atlantia, the flagship of the colonial fleet, plowed into the baseship like a meteor from the heavens. Her prow broke through the ship's center axis, as a locomotive pushing onwards to its final destination. Fires broke out all over her torn armor plates, gaping holes aflame from escaping atmosphere licking up from the missing flight pod. Electrical surges played across her sublight engines as she began to break apart, finally exploding as she reached a second baseship, taking them both together into the fiery maelstrom.

And then there were none.


End file.
